‘Your . . . family?’ Vale enquired, in a tone that was an invitation to expand on the subject.
‘There is a temporary disagreement on the subject of my future,’ Kai said. ‘I hope to win them round.’
Irene suspected there was more to it than that. The dragons – very well, the single dragon whom she had met – seemed to tolerate the Library as some sort of human eccentricity. It seemed notable only for its admirable taste in fiction, and certainly not a prospective life for one of their children. (Spawn? Eggs? Younglings? She didn’t have vocabulary for this.) It was now quite obvious why Kai had claimed that his family was dead; she could understand why he’d told the lie, in view of the greater secret. What she didn’t know was how he was going to resolve the situation. Or how the Library would resolve it for him.
But then again, if Coppelia knew about Kai’s true nature, perhaps there were other dragons at large in the Library. Maybe there was a Secret Alliance. (That sort of thing would demand capital letters.) Perhaps the lower depths of the Library sheltered great slithering coils of ancient dragons and . . .
. . . and she was going to drive herself into paranoia at this rate. ‘I agree that sleep would be a good idea,’ she said, causing both Vale and Kai to give her aggrieved looks. They could have a bonding session some other time, or after she had gone to sleep. Dragons might be stand-offish in general, but this particular dragon seemed inclined to be friendly, or even outright demonstrative, and possibly even a thorough Romantic. She was much more detached. Semidetached. Her brain was tired enough that her thoughts were making stupid connections. ‘I hate to impose on you for a bed, Mr Vale, but . . .’
‘Of course,’ Vale said, giving in gracefully. ‘The bed in the spare room has already been made up for you. I’m afraid that Mr Strongrock will have to make do with the couch in here. My housekeeper has put out some blankets. I’ll just fetch them.’
The moment he was out of the room, Kai turned to Irene. ‘Well?’
‘Well, what?’
He folded his arms defensively, drawing himself to his full height. ‘I expected you’d want to talk about . . . well, you know. You’ve probably guessed.’
She’d thought about how to handle this. She’d run through several different scenarios in her head, and none of them that started out ‘so explain why you’re a dragon’ had ended well. He was proud. She was familiar with the emotion. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m not going to ask you any questions.’
Kai stood there like a beautiful statue (in a second-hand dressing-gown with frayed cuffs), blinking at her. The rain was audible on the window for several seconds before he could bring himself to speak again. ‘You’re not?’
‘My trust in you hasn’t changed.’ She put her unbandaged hand on his wrist. ‘I believe that if it mattered, if it was truly important, then you would tell me. You wouldn’t jeopardize the mission for the sake of your own pride. But when it comes to your private matters – yours and your family’s – I don’t intend to pry.’
‘Irene.’ He swallowed. ‘That’s very generous of you.’
‘Think nothing of it,’ she said, turning away.
‘And it makes me feel like hell,’ he said to her back.
Ah, guilt. Which Irene was very definitely feeling herself at the moment, for what she’d said and also what she hadn’t said to Vale, and for the way that she’d manipulated Kai. She could tell herself that she’d only acted as was necessary in a dangerous situation, but she knew perfectly well that he’d confessed his nature to save her life, and she’d just . . . well, given him orders and enforced their relationship as superior and trainee. All her feelings of natural justice encouraged her to confess something to him in return, but she wasn’t sure what she could say.
And now he was offering her another chance to manipulate him. Under some conditions, Irene would happily have encouraged his guilt in the hopes of getting him to spill the full details, but in the middle of a mission wasn’t one of them. I am not a nice person, she thought, to be thinking only of the mission, sparing nothing for my responsibilities to him.
‘What do you want me to say?’ she asked, turning round to look at him. ‘I’m grateful that you saved our lives. Thank you.’
‘You’re taking this far too calmly.’ He ran one hand through his hair. ‘You should be demanding answers, being furious—’